


In Cherry Dusted Woods

by LavenderWater



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: F/F, Human Eva, Love at First Sight, Nokken Noora, Playing very fast and loose with legend and myth, SKAM WLW Mini Bang, Slow Build, Summer days and nights in the woods, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 08:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20225185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderWater/pseuds/LavenderWater
Summary: Eva's always been a little superstitious: immersing herself in the world of the supernatural, thriving on the tales of those beautiful deadly creatures lurking in the shadows just waiting to be found. Yet, for all her belief, all her yearning to discover something extraordinary, Eva has never found a way to enter the world where she wishes to be.Or at least she hasn't until one summer day in the woods when she finds a strange creature staring at her from the depths of the water where a normal person would struggle to breathe.





	In Cherry Dusted Woods

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Skam wlw mini bang, which I had so much fun writing for. As soon as I saw what this bang was about, I immediately had this picture in my head of Noora and Eva in the woods, and, me being me, my mind went down the supernatural road. I'm actually pretty happy with how this turned out and I'm excited to be able to share it with everyone.
> 
> A big thank you goes to Julia (@setholiver on tumblr) for not only organizing this entire mini bang but also for creating the amazing cover that goes with this fic. Thank you so much, it looks stunning. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! <3

Eva’s always been a little… superstitious. How could she not be after spending the majority of her life immersed in the supernatural? Instead of bedtime stories about princesses being saved by knights in shining armor, Eva fell asleep listening to fantastic tales of men transforming into animals under the full moon, ripping people apart with sharp bloodstained claws, women with eyes as black as a bottomless abyss and teeth like slivered daggers, and people who could peel off their own flesh to reveal another face hidden underneath. Her dreams sang with the gentle hum of creatures lurking in the dark, and her blood pumped with legend and lore.

Despite this, she’s never actually seen anything supernatural, which really fucking sucks considering she’s probably one of the most open and susceptible people to the paranormal. But that’s just semantics, whatever, it doesn’t matter. It’s enough for her to just know that those things are out there, that there’s magic alive somewhere in the world, swirling around in the atmosphere, even if she can’t see it, can’t feel it, can’t run in the wild with it. Her grandma always used to say she had the soul of a nymph or a fairy, and maybe in another life she had been. Maybe she used to belong to those woods behind her grandmother’s house where it was rumored fairies resided, protecting their hills and dancing through the trees.

Either way, Eva longed for something that lay just beyond the horizon, hidden from the naked eye by the orangish-pink shimmer of the sunset that painted the sky like cotton candy. Sometimes, she liked to think this thing was waiting for her too. 

In all honesty, that’s probably why as soon as the weather breaks, she slips her laptop and notebooks into her bag and races to catch the next tram that’ll take her closest to the woods just on the outskirts of town. Sure, fresh air will do her some good and, yeah, she’s currently working on something that’ll vibe really well with the whole nature feel, but there’s no WIFI so what can she really accomplish out here?

Nevertheless, she continues trekking deeper into the wooded area, pushing low-hanging tree branches aside and carefully avoiding tripping over fallen logs and vines winding themselves along the threadbare trail. A couple of times her shoe string catches on something prickly- probably a thorn or a stray thistle- and once or twice a branch she’s moved comes snapping back to scratch her arm or palm, leaving an angry red streak in its wake. One particularly uncooperative branch comes back and whacks her across the cheek, stinging the skin along her cheekbone and nose, making her stumble back a couple of steps, swearing. 

Thankfully, none of the wounds well any blood, though Eva’s anticipating waking up to a bruise in the morning if not a black eye.

It’s all worth it, though, when she stumbles into a beautiful little clearing, one she’s never seen before that instantly steals her breath, like an overly-greedy thief reaching into her chest to cup her lungs between trembling fingers. Yet, it doesn’t feel like suffocation, at least not a real suffocation. Instead, Eva feels like she’s coming home, like in the loss of air she’s found a way to truly breathe for the first time in her life.

“Wow,” she breathes, the word coming out like a gut punch, filled with wonder and awe as her eyes dart around, landing on everything and nothing.

The ground around the clearing is filled with patches of tall grass and wildflowers of various colors, and the trees seem to be creating a type of canopy, like a patchwork ceiling overhead, shading the area from direct sunlight. A warm golden glow cradles the area, bouncing off of the surroundings, refracting off the surface of the small body of water in the very center, leaving particles of dust floating in suspension like shimmering beauty marks or freckles.

Everything is still, frozen in time, and for a moment Eva’s mind is filled with thoughts of fairytales, of enchanted kingdoms drawn out on pages of yellowed antique paper. Whatever this place is, it’s obvious that it doesn’t see much outside life. And yet, Eva doesn’t feel unwelcome. There’s this sense that she’s being beckoned closer, drawn in by the weird pseudo gravity radiating off everything in the area from the water droplets clinging to the blades of grass to the crisp green leaves waving in the gentle breeze.

Moving further into the area, Eva spots a section by the pond where the grass is a little lower and the sun shines a little more directly and decides to set up camp there. Her fingers dance along the top of the over-grown grass and flowers as she walks over, and she marvels at the way they seem to mold under her touch, pliable like a lover reorienting to their soldier’s touch after returning home from war- strangers stumbling back to their heart through touches of calloused hands and stuttering lips.

She drops her bag on the patch of grass and plops down gently beside it, pushing aside a few purple flowers that seem to have grown out of nowhere. Seriously, Eva could’ve sworn that spot was vacant not even five seconds ago, but whatever, she’s not going to question it too much, her mind already focused on the task at hand.

Shrugging off the strange sensation, Eva gets her laptop out and digs through the plethora of open tabs until she locates the most recent pages in need of illustration. Overall, it shouldn’t be too difficult, and usually Eva loves her work as a freelance children’s’ book illustrator, especially when she gets sent a book like this one. It’s just that, in order for “The Brave Little Ghost” to be out on the shelf by Halloween, that means that Eva has to have the entire book completely illustrated and sent back to the publisher by… well, honestly probably by yesterday evening, but that clearly didn’t happen. So, now she’s going to have to practically kill herself to crunch out the remaining three pages by tomorrow morning.

What a joy.

At least she can pretend there was a mix-up at the post office that caused the slight delay instead of the fact that she got wrapped up in Netflix and meeting up with her old squad for an impromptu mini vacation. Oops.

Sighing, Eva shifts position so she’s lying on her stomach, notebook and pens spread out in front of her, and sets to work sketching the outline of the little ghost boy for what feels like the 50th time in the last 24 hours. As she works, Eva hums along absentmindedly with the songs cycling through her “chill artist” playlist on Spotify. The grainy sound fills up the meadow, compensating for the otherwise quiet stillness.

It’s strangely comforting lying under the canopy of trees, letting the sun warm her skin in tingling licks that will no doubt leave a light kissing of red on her shoulders and the back of her legs. It’s so easy to get wrapped up here, to become engulfed in the moment like a freezing or a forgetfulness that anything exists outside of the here and now. And because of this, Eva actually finds herself making progress, putting the finishing touches on page after page until she’s down to the final one- the conclusion of the story where the ghost child returns home to tell his mother all about the day he had in the real world.

Sometime between drawing the ball cap on the child and the concerned expression on the mother’s face as her son bursts through the front door, the music switches from S.O.S by the Jonas Brothers to Undrunk by Fletcher and Eva takes the opportunity to shake out her hand in a futile attempt to return some of the feeling to her numb wrist and fingers.

And that’s when she sees it.

Out in the middle of the pond, there’s someone watching her. Awhile ago, she got that eerie, tingly feeling on the back of her neck that usually meant she was being watched, but it honestly hadn’t concerned her much at the time. Afterall, who could possibly be all the way out here in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere with her? Eva herself had practically stumbled upon the place by accident; it didn’t make much sense for another person to have done the same at the same time and day as her. Way too much of a coincidence she had thought.

Yet, here she is, face to face with… well to be honest she’s not really sure. The person- if that’s what it is and Eva highly doubts judging by how deep in the water the woman is to be able to breathe properly- is sunk deep into the crystalline water; the only parts of her visible above the waves is the top of her head and the silver irises of her eyes, staring directly into Eva’s own. Below the water, she can just make out white-blonde strands of hair spiraling around, wrapping around a pale neck and shoulders like snakes.

Probably the most eerie part of the whole image is the red bleeding below the surface in swirls like spilled ink on a piece of parchment- a little washed out and smeary. For a second, Eva wonders if the person is bleeding, but then she catches a flash of something white and realizes what it is she’s looking at.

A mouth. Teeth sharp and shiny, lips a brilliant red staining the surrounding water as the lipstick runs.

Eva’s eyes snap back to the thunderous grey orbs and finds herself trapped in their gaze. She can’t move, can barley even breathe. She knows she’s taking in air- can vaguely register the rise and fall of her chest in the back of her mind- but she can’t feel it. Her lungs burn and her throat constricts, everything about her dwindling down to this one point of focus. Like a kind of tunnel vision. Like drowning without even being in the water. 

She blinks, and the mirage is gone, vanished into nothing. The water looks completely undisturbed, no waves or movement of any kind. Nothing that would indicate that anyone had ever been there in the water at all.

Well, except for the choked panting of Eva’s breathing and the rapid pounding of her heart. 

**

Ok, so it was probably nothing. Just a trick of the light or a sign that Eva’s brain had finally melted from the stress and spending hours focused on a Halloween story. That had to be it. Eva had simply been channeling her inner spook for too long and was projecting that onto the… whatever it was in the water. Most likely a fish or a fallen leaf or… something.

Fuck if Eva knows. It doesn’t matter, not really. The point is that it was absolutely not a girl standing motionless in the water watching her. The grey orbs were absolutely not steely grey eyes. The distorted reflection of red was absolutely not lipstick running in rippling waves over what was absolutely not a plush pair of lips.

And Eva knows all of this in the rational part of her mind. It’s the other part- the part that thrives on tales of darkness and myth- that isn’t so convinced. Because it had felt real. Like really real. And now every time Eva closes her eyes, all she sees is silvery blonde hair, piercing grey eyes, and smeary red lips.

It feels like going mad in the most intoxicating and exhilarating way, and after another riveting hour of switching between tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling fan oscillating sluggishly above the bed, Eva finally gives in. Leaning precariously over the edge of the bed, Eva makes a grab for her phone, pulling at it with the tips of her fingers until it slides close enough to edge of the desk for her to pick it up safely without fear of either the phone or herself or, in the more likely event, both of them crashing to the floor.

The first thing she tries looking up- creatures that live in the water- is the farthest thing from helpful, supplying her with a list of sea animals ranging from jellyfish to squid. The second try is about just as fruitful. Though, the little article about vampire squid seems to hit a little closer to the mark- at least the vampire part.

Dropping her phone on her chest, Eva falls back on the bed, heaving a frustrated sigh as she stares at the ceiling. Honestly, she feels a little silly for expecting this to be easy. But it's just... How hard can this be?! For crying out loud, all it took was one hot Google search got Bella to figure out Edward was a vampire in Twilight. Albeit that's probably not the best judge.

No, definitely not the best judging point Eva decides.

Brushing the stray hairs that fell from her bun out of her eyes, Eva picks her phone back up and gives it another try. This time she types in something more specific to narrow the search. And that seems to be the golden ticket because from the results of supernatural creatures living in the water all it takes is a bit more tweaking and a few clicks through some reliable-ish looking websites to have a list of possible things she could have seen today.

After about an hour of admittedly half-assed research, Eva has it narrowed down to one of three possibilities: Siren, Rusalka, or a Nokken. All of which are viable options.

Siren made its way on the list because the brief view of the creature Eva got was, well, it was alluring as hell is what it was. Just that small moment had set Eva's blood on fire, racked the temperature up about 50 degrees, so she's not going to rule out the possibility of it being a siren.

A Rusalka turns out to be some sort of female ghost, water nymph, succubus or mermaid-like demon that dwells in a waterway. Based on the vastness of that description and the feeble amount of information Eva has on the girl, she very well could be one.

However, the one Eva's willing to place her betting money on is the Nokken, for a couple of reasons. First off, according to legend, these creatures are connected to music, drawn in by melodies and tunes. Eva had been listening to music the entire time she was in the clearing, volume up and definitely loud enough to hear clearly even at a distance. Second, and maybe a bit more cliché, but the artist depictions that come up when she searches the legend all resemble the image she saw today: a creature submerged in water save for their eyes glistening just above the surface. The third and probably most disturbing clue is the water lilies that were scattered on the water. While Eva hadn't been able to put a name to the flowers earlier, she definitely recognizes them now. Apparently Nokken use water lilies to lure humans- children in particular- closer to the water. Close enough that the creature can grab them. Close enough that the Nokken can drag them down and drown them.

Out of all the possible things this creature could be, this is probably the worst. Because Eva's almost 90% sure that this is what her mystery girl is, and she’s 100% sure that she's going back to that clearing. 

**

Armed with a new Spotify playlist she composed the night before, Eva makes her way back to the meadow. It's easier to find this time and, as an added bonus, she already knows where all the spots are to trip, so naturally she only twists her ankle twice.

The clearing is just as beautiful as she remembers, and Eva wastes no time making herself at home. She gets the playlist going- all songs she deems worthy of attracting a supernatural being- and lays down in the grass to wait, staring up at the sky to avoid looking like she’s waiting for the creature to return. It’s less suspicious this way. Besides, a watched pot never boils. Or something like that.

**

Eva’s not really sure when she fell asleep. All she knows is that when she next opens her eyes, it’s to find Hozier singing about hearing a scream in the woods somewhere and a pair of warm wool-spun grey eyes staring directly down into her own. If it weren’t for the fact that she literally came here with the intentions of meeting this strange, beautiful creature, Eva probably would die from a heart attack from the shock.

She still startles pretty spectacularly as it is, though- body instinctively flinching away from the woman. Unfortunately, the only direction she can go with the creature up close and personal above her is back, which essentially consists of Eva shuddering into the dew damp grass and smacking her head on the bank, morphing her gasp of surprise into a grunt of pain.

Grey eyes widen cosmically and the girl above her rears back with a shocked convulsion of her own.

For a horrible moment, Eva thinks she’s going to sink back into the water, disappear into the depths hidden by darkness and waterlilies where Eva can’t follow. And she can’t do that. She can’t, not when Eva’s closer than she’s ever been to that longing in her heart, that light that always seems to call out for her but never lets her get close enough to touch it with even just the tips of her fingers. She can practically taste it- a mixture of wildflowers and daisies- and she’s going to lose it already.

It’s not fair; it’s not enough, and it’s this thought paired with the tingling desperation burning in her chest that forces her into action.

“Wait,” she implores, holding her hand out beseechingly to the creature, her fingers brushing against empty air. “Wait, please.”

The entity cocks her head to the side, eyes squinted and elegant blonde eyebrows raised to her hairline. She looks taken aback, like the thought of someone wanting her to stay is incomprehensible and foreign to her, which Eva can’t understand at all. When given this kind of chance why would anyone ever waste it by wanting her to leave?

Despite the obvious apprehension lingering in her eyes, the girl wades cautiously closer, jostling the water around her in ripples that rise on the bank and soak into Eva’s hair where it’s spread out messily. Gingerly, she rests her arms on the grass just shy of the top of Eva’s head and uses them to prop herself up, so she can pull herself out of the water and stare at Eva upside down once again. Something about the amount of care she puts into making sure her arms aren’t pulling Eva’s hair pinning her to the ground makes Eva’s heart beat just a little bit faster. 

Now that Eva can see her properly, there’s no mistaking that this girl is the illusion she saw in the water yesterday. There’s absolutely nothing else it could have been. The pewter eyes are just as captivating up close, maybe even more so; they burn into Eva like molten metal, making her feel wriggly and hot inside, like she’s slowly disintegrating into nothing more than a pile of ash. Her hair is, in fact, blonde just like Eva suspected, and it dances along her shoulders in an elegant tango as she turns her head back and forth scrutinizing Eva. It glints and glimmers in the scattered light bouncing off the trees around them like it’s the sun’s personal mission to give her a spotlight, to ensure she shines.

Eva’s eyes are drawn to the strand of wet hair sticking to her cheek, resting along delicate skin to the spot where her mouth curves upward in a half-curious half-self-satisfied red stained smirk. 

Eva can’t move- can’t breathe- as she takes in the beauty of the creature who’s staring back at her with the same kind of awed intensity that Eva’s certain must be playing out on her own face. The way she’s watching Eva you would think that she was the gorgeous, elusive entity instead of the average everyday human she is.

“What happened here?” she asks Eva in a whisper, brushing her fingers along the air over the splotchy purple-blue skin covering her cheekbone and trailing down to the swollen split in her lower lip. A shiver races down Eva’s spine at the almost not quite there touch. 

It takes Eva a moment to register that she’s been asked something and then another moment to remember how to make words work.

“Oh, um. A tree branch came back and you know,” Eva waves her hand back towards her cheek, mimicking the way the branch had snapped back against her skin.

“It hit you,” the girl fills in with a nod, grazing her fingers along the tender skin once more in a reverent sort of way, like one would skim their fingers over the passages of their favorite book until the letters begin to fade and the pages are worn with grooves. When her hand comes to rest against Eva’s chin- thumb idly stroking the discolored skin below the split in her lip, fingers fluttering against her pulse thrumming in her neck- it suddenly strikes Eva how surreal this all is. 

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing down the hysterical laughter bubbling in her chest. God, she hasn’t been this awkward around a girl since second year when she realized it probably wasn’t just ‘friendly feelings’ wanting to tuck someone’s hair behind their ear and kiss their neck.

And of course, this is no ordinary girl. Eva can feel it. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place, Eva can feel something moving and settling in her chest the longer this girl stares down at her.

“And does that sort of thing happen to you often?” she questions. There’s a teasing lilt to the words and a sparkle in the shadowed grey eyes that suggests she already has an inkling of how Eva’s going to answer that particular question.

“You would be surprised.” Eva tries to laugh but it comes out as more of a grimace as years of trips and falls resulting in varying degrees of scrapped knees, busted lips, and broken arms rush to the surface.

Her mom used to say she didn’t have land legs, stumbling around like a baby colt attempting to stand for the first time. Every time she said it, usually over bottles of antiseptic and Band-Aids, her grandmother would give her an appraising look, narrowing her eyes as she leaned against the bathroom door frame and staring at Eva like she could read everything in her soul.

Kinda like this girl seems to be doing. Only she doesn’t seem to be looking for anything specific as she alternates between smoothing Eva’s hair and braiding random sections of it. No, she seems to be more than content just watching, taking in whatever comes to her. It’s like watching a blind man discover brail for the first time, realizing that all of his favorite stories still exist, just under his fingertips now.

Every time she moves- pushing back from the bank and pulling herself back in- the water crests, seeping into Eva’s hair and licking at her bare shoulders where the short sleeves of her shirt have left her arms exposed. Based on the calm, soothing effect the water has on her skin, Eva bets she’s rocking a sunburn, which makes sense considering she’s been out here for hours and, you know, fell asleep in the sun.

“You’re kinda strange. Though, to be fair, I haven’t met a human in many years,” she says. “What do they call you?”

This time she can’t help the giggles that come out, loud and delirious sounding, bouncing off the makeshift walls of the trees. “I’m the strange one? Seriously?” she chokes out, flipping over to lie on her stomach so she can better see the creature in front of her. At this angle, she can count the light dusting of freckles running down the bridge of her nose. “You apparently ‘haven’t met a human in many years,’” she puts air quotes around the words, “and stare at people all creepy like from the depths of the water, which by the way probably suggests that you don’t breathe air or at least don’t need to anyway, and yet _I’m_ the strange one?”

She shrugs at Eva. “Strange is relative.”

Eva snorts. “Ain’t that the fucking truth,” she agrees, propping her chin on folded arms and watching as the girl slowly glides back over into Eva’s space, sinking further down in the water until she mirrors Eva’s position. “And they call me Eva,” she says around a smile. “What about you? What do they call you?”

“Honestly? Many things. Depends on who you ask.” There’s a hint of sadness in her eyes that sends a pang through Eva, makes her want to wash away the hurt until those eyes shine with nothing but silver, like the strings of tinsel wrapped around the branches of a Christmas tree, reflecting and refracting every shade of the rainbow.

“Well, I’m asking you,” Eva says with a little nod, brushing off all other possibilities and encouraging this girl to trust her.

“Noora.”

“Noora. Noora,” Eva repeats, stretching out the o’s, tasting the name on her tongue. “I like it,” she decides. It’s soft, delicate yet strong, a rose petal masquerading as a thorn. “You know, some people say the name Noora means divine light. I know a lot of random things,” she explains when Noora raises her eyebrows in question.

The delighted smile that lights up Noora’s face is dazzling. Much like the sun parting the clouds after a storm, it washes away all traces of the lingering sadness in Noora’s eyes. Eva finds that she really likes this smile.

Noora scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. “And yet I’m the strange one,” she teases.

“Strange is relative,” Eva echoes, flicking a few drops of water in Noora’s direction.

Eva has a feeling she’s about to find out just how true that statement can be.

**

Over the course of the next several weeks, Eva returns to the little clearing every day, arriving at any and all hours of the day and staying well into the night. If Eva thought the meadow was beautiful during the day it’s nothing compared to the wonderland it becomes once the sun goes down, blanketing it in a sea of stars and darkness.

While there seems to be next to no insects or wildlife in the area under the sun, the night appears to drag them out. Lighting bugs flash erratically, creating a miniature light show; cicadas chirp, playing out the melody of a tune that only they know. Once Eva swears she even sees a silver fox dash by the tree line, hidden under the foliage of a low-growing ivy bush.

In their short span of time together, Eva has come to know Noora, become comfortable with her. She doesn’t think she’s ever talked to someone so much before in her life or opened up to another person so intimately before, but with Noora it’s as easy as breathing. Rather than leaving her feeling exposed, flayed apart and skinned open, Noora makes her feel calm, like a cool breeze breathing new life and revival into the darkest cobweb-covered places of Eva’s mind.

** 

The day they finally talk about exactly what Noora is comes as an accident. A surprising accident, and not a happy one at that. More like when you throw a surprise party for your boyfriend only the surprise is that it’s not even his birthday and he’s sleeping with your best friend. Until then they’ve been ignoring the fact that Noora’s not exactly human.

It’s not like Eva hasn’t wanted to address the giant elephant in the woods, it’s just that it doesn’t really matter. Eva always thought that it would change everything if she were to meet one of those creatures of the dark- and meeting Noora has changed her life in so many ways- but none of the things she thought would happen has. No blood rained down from the heavens, no mystical creatures raided her house in the middle of the night to scare her away, no evil hunter kidnapped her in an attempt to lure and capture Noora for revenge.

What did happen, though, is that Eva fell for Noora. Hard and fast. So, it doesn’t matter so much what Noora is compared to who she is. Sure, Eva may have become invested because of a deep seeded love for the supernatural, but she stayed because Noora is one of the most fascinating people Eva has ever met. Period. Noora listens to her. She cares about Eva in ways that no one has since her grandmother passed away three years ago. She talks to Eva about her art- always making sure her fingers are dry before reaching out to touch a page in the most endearing way- and shares songs and music, stories of the water, which never cease to amaze Eva.

But the real magic of Noora is in the way her eyes light up when she sees Eva approaching, like she didn’t expect her to come back but is so glad that she did. It’s in the way she wrinkles her nose when she disapproves of something, or tries to secretly hum along to Justin Bieber songs, or how when she laughs she just kind of goes boneless, all loose and happy with joy as she falls against Eva.

There’s so much enchantment surrounding Noora that Eva actually forgets that there’s an explanation for it other than the fact that Eva’s head over heels in love with her.

Or at least she does until one of the hottest days of the summer when Eva decides to join Noora in the water to cool off and Noora practically has a meltdown.

She’s just stripped out of her shirt and shorts and waded a little ways into the pond, the water barely licking at the skin of her thighs, when Noora practically shrieks a “No!” loud enough to probably be heard in China. She looks desperate- terrified the part of Eva’s mind that isn’t currently crashing to a grinding halt supplies unhelpfully- torn between the desire to dash away and bodily push Eva out of the water and back to safety.

“What? Noora, what?” Eva asks, voice shaky. The desire to comfort, to fix whatever it is that she unknowingly did, burns in Eva and she takes a half-step further into the water without thinking.

“Get out!” Noora hisses. “Eva, get out of the water,” she pleads, practically begs, pointing a trembling finger at the shore behind Eva. If it weren’t for the slightest shake to her shoulders and the way she’s worrying her bright red bottom lip between her teeth, Eva would think Noora was pissed. Maybe someone else would, someone who wasn’t Eva. But as it is, Eva can read the fear and panic in Noora as easy as reading the pages of her favorite childhood book.

“Ok, ok.” Eva holds her hands up in a placating manner, slowly backing her way out of the water, never taking her eyes off of Noora’s. As soon as her heels brush against the first blades of grass and mud on the bank line, Noora visibly relaxes, sagging down beneath the water like it’s all too much for her.

Eva waits on the shore, scrunching bits of grass between her toes as she apprehensively watches for Noora to resurface. God, she hopes she comes back; Eva’s not exactly the praying type, but she’ll pray for this- for the girl who sparks a fire in her blood to return to her.

Another five minutes that feel like an eternity pass before Eva pinpoints the blonde hair shimmering below the surface, and it takes another handful of minutes before Noora emerges, the barest hint of grey eyes peeking out at her over the waves. Still, she makes no move to get closer, no move to come out of the water any further, and panic squeezes Eva’s heart at the thought that she might have just royally fucked this up beyond repair. It’s like a sick recreation of the day they first saw each other, the only difference is that the distance between them now is filled with tension and doubt.

“Noora,” she chokes out helplessly at the same time her legs give out, knees hitting the ground hard and digging into little pebbles that will no doubt leave little indents and scratches.

Like a spell breaking, Noora is immediately in front of her, faster than humanly possible. Tentatively, she reaches out for Eva, her movements slow and exaggerated as she brushes her fingers over the back of Eva’s hand. Just as delicately, Eva turns her hand, sliding their palms together and twining their fingers, clutching tightly until their fingers start to bloom a lilac-stained white.

“I’m sorry,” Eva starts to apologize, but Noora quickly interrupts her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Noora soothes, running her thumb along Eva’s knuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that, it’s just,” she sighs, taking a steadying breathing, “people can’t be in the water with me, darling. _You_ can’t be in the water with me,” she stresses.

Eva mulls it over, sucking her lip between her teeth, biting at the almost-healed scab until it cracks open, assaulting her tongue with the taste of old pennies. “Ok,” she drawls, dragging the word out as she searches for the best way to formulate the question on the tip of her tongue. The last thing she needs is to offend Noora while they’re standing on shaky ground trying to rebuild their foundation. “And that’s because… you’re… right?”

It’s choppy and incomprehensible at best, but Noora understands her anyway. Noora always understands her, she’s like an Eva whisperer or something, always digging through to the root of what Eva means, what she intends even where words fail in their limitedness.

Noora sighs, but nods in affirmation. And that would be enough for Eva, but apparently it’s not good enough for Noora because she slips out of the water to sit by Eva’s side, their hands still tangled together, and explains. “You have to understand, my people weren’t bred for their kindness, Eva. Nokken aren’t- our whole purpose is to find people like you. People who are drawn to the water, drawn to us. Beautiful, naïve people that we can pull into the water and drown. And you’re so stupid because you keep coming back here.”

It should be harsh, should be fear-inducing, but the sting is lessened by Noora squeezing Eva’s hand tighter and resting her forehead against Eva’s temple, slipping her other hand up to cover Eva’s heart. They’re completely wrapped up in each other, practically sitting in each other’s lap, and Eva reads the message loud and clear. For how stupid Eva is to continue putting herself in danger like this, Noora’s just as stupid for not wanting Eva to go.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Noora mumbles against Eva’s cheek, breath fanning out warmly against her ear. “But most of all you. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t lose you, Eva.” She’s clinging to her like a sailor that’s been shipwrecked for years and Eva’s her shore. 

“You won’t,” Eva whispers back, slotting her thigh between Noora’s and breathing in the flowery scent of her hair. “I’ll stay out of the water,” she promises, “though, for the record, I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

“You don’t know that,” Noora says, pulling back to look Eva in the eye. “There was a boy,” she looks away out to the water almost sheepishly, “a few years before you, there was a boy. He stumbled upon my hiding place much like you did, and just like you he took a fascination in it all. Came back all the time, bringing little trinkets and things that I guess were supposed to be gifts. And it was nice for awhile, you know, not being so alone all the time,” she looks back at Eva and shrugs.

“But then things started to shift. He got more clinical, started asking all these questions, almost like he was trying to study me or something. He wanted to know how Nokken came to be, what exactly we were, where the others like me are. And then one day he showed up insisting that we were soulmates, destined to be together or some ridiculous shit like that. He came into the water, Eva. And I tried to back away from him, tried telling him to stay away, to go back to shore, but he just kept pushing in deeper and deeper.

“God, he was so stupid, Eva. The deeper he got the more obvious it became that he couldn’t swim, and what was I going to do, just let him drown?” She scoffs. “Anyway, when it was all said and done, he went back to the village and told his people that I tried to kill, that I lured him into the water to drown him.”

“But you didn’t,” Eva says outraged.

“But that’s the thing, Eva. By nature, Nokken are designed to be alluring enough to entice people into the water. His death would have been my fault regardless.”

“Ok, first of all,” Eva says holding up a finger, “you’re not that ‘alluring.’ I was just getting into the water to cool off because it’s hotter than Satan’s balls out here, not because I couldn’t resist your magnetic pull or what the fuck ever. Even if that is the reason he came into the water it still wouldn’t have been your fault. He made that decision, not you. No one forced him to do anything. Second of all, you helped that kid- saved his life actually, which is a bit of a miracle because he sounds like a dumbass. Third,” she says, holding up a third finger, “you told me to get out of the water. You don’t want to hurt people, Noora. What you are isn’t stronger than who you are, and who you are is a pretty kick ass person.” Noora chuckles at that and Eva raises their hands to brush a kiss against the back of her hand. “So, quit worrying. If you ask me, you’ve been carrying this huge chip on your shoulder for years when you really don’t need to.”

Noora stares at her wide eyed for a moment before her face breaks out in a small, disbelieving smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you,” she murmurs. “And you keep hurting yourself,” she chides, tacitly changing the subject. Swiping her finger along Eva’s lower lip, she wipes up the drop of blood welling in the reopened wound, brining her finger to her mouth and sucking the red-smeared tip into her mouth.

“What can I say,” Eva exclaims, heart beating in her chest as she stretches out on the grass, “we all have our own special talents.” 

**

"I've always loved storms," Eva muses, lying back on the tree branch to watch the rapidly darkening sky above them peeking through the scattered leaves. It's like a mosaic all bright green, red, and orange contrasting on a swirling gray canvas.

"Why?" Noora wonders, pulling herself up onto the branch from the water and settling down next to Eva.

Over the last couple of weeks since their "Nokken talk" as Eva dubbed it, Noora's been getting more and more comfortable. That trace of apprehension that used to linger whenever she was around Eva has slowly faded to a dull ember, and it's like she never had any reservations against being in Eva's space at all. Granted, she still won't let Eva come in the water with her and Eva's not going to push the matter. She's more than happy with what she's got. Hence, the reason they're currently reclining on a tree branch.

The branch is low-hanging enough that it almost touches the surface of the pond, and if Eva dangles her arm or leg over the surface she can feel the cool water dance against her skin. It's a way of being close to Noora, a way to be in her space without actually being in her space when she's floating out in the center of the pond. At first Noora wasn't too ecstatic about the idea, claiming that it was too dangerous for her to be that close to the water. But, with some gentle coaxing and a well-practiced pout, Noora gave in, saying it was fine so long as nothing more than a foot or hand or the very tips of Eva's hair was in the water with her.

Eva's come to think of the tree fondly, referring to it as "their tree." The only thing missing is their initials carved in a heart in the crook of the branch and tree trunk.

Noora bumps her with her elbow and Eva hums. "There's just something about it. I don't really know," she finally answers.

Noora throws her a skeptical glance from the corner of her eye, making Eva chuckle. "Ok, so maybe I do know why I like them so much," she relents, turning her attention back to the sky just as Noora begins twirling a few stands of Eva's hair around her fingers.

"Mmhm. That's what I thought," Noora teases. "So, are you going to share with the class?"

"It's kinda hard to explain, but in a way it's like the earth is trying to say something. The way the wind kicks up and the thunder rattles the ground... It's like it's trying to speak to us. Like the earth is just letting go of all its pain and anger and is starting over, using the rain to cleanse itself and us. It's silly, I know," she finishes with a rueful smile, turning her head to see Noora's expression.

To her surprise, Noora's already watching her, a soft look on her face. "It's not silly at all," she whispers. "I think it's actually kind of lovely."

"Yeah?" Eva breathes, unconsciously taking on Noora's hushed tone. "Sometimes if you look in the right spot you can see where it looks like the lightning is trying to spell something out. It makes this like crooked kind of cursive."

"Show me," Noora says just as the first crack of thunder booms above them.

"Mmhm. C’mere." Eva makes room, leaning back against the trunk and patting the empty spot between her legs.

Noora crawls over, slotting herself in place easily, gracefully, her back pressed warm against Eva's chest, head resting on her shoulder as they look up to the sky. Eva wraps her arms around Noora just as the first drops of rain begin to patter down. In no time their drenched in the warm summer rain, a light layer of steam wrapping around them like a cocoon.

"There," Noora exclaims, pointing up at a dark patch of clouds where a blue-white streak of lighting had just been. She turns to Eva, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "It kinda looked like a shape, right? Like a flower or a ribbon or something. What do you think that means?" she asks wistfully, turning back to the clouds.

Eva clears her throat, mirroring Noora in watching the storm play out above them. "I don't know," she murmurs, but her attention is somewhere else a million miles away because for a moment there, with Noora looking at her in so much wonder and awe, Eva had almost kissed her.

As it is, she does something a little reckless, drawing a heart in the drops of water collecting on Noora's arm by the bend of her elbow. The crooked little heart stays there longer than it should, lingering in the drops of water like a love stain on Noora's skin before it finally slips away.

She's not exactly sure, but she swears that Noora traces out a shape of her own, a matching heart right on Eva's thigh. But when she looks down all she finds are rain drops running down her knee.

The spot where Noora’s fingers had etched continues to tingle like static hours after the rains stops.

**

The first sign of fall starting to set in comes in the form of an orange tipped leaf falling from their tree, where Eva’s laying spread out, foot dangling idly down into the water below. Of course, because that’s the way it works for Eva, the leaf hits her in the face before falling down into the water as well, landing close to Noora, who’s smirking at Eva’s unpleased little huff to displace the leaf.

“It’s not funny,” she admonishes, rubbing at her cheek, trying to wipe away the feeling the leaf left behind like a weird tingling scratch. The effect is lost however on the smile she fails to fight off. “I swear,” she sighs, giving up and slumping further into the crook of the branch, “nature hates me. And it’s only going to get worse from here. Slipping on wet leaves, tripping on cracks hidden on the sidewalks. And don’t even get me started on the ice and snow.” A shiver runs down her spine at the horrifying thought alone.

“About that,” Noora says, nervously picking at the fallen leaf, pulling strips of it apart with her fingers, “I probably won’t be seeing you so much here soon.”

Eva's brow crinkles. "What are you talking about? Hey," she calls, sitting up in the tree. When Noora continues to ignore her, she kicks some water in Noora's direction. "Why won't we see each other anymore? Are you going somewhere, like do you migrate or hibernate for winter or something?"

"No," Noora answers her slowly almost like she's trying to work through exactly how ridiculous that question was. "No, I don't leave this area, but you probably shouldn't come here when winter comes. It'll be too cold for you."

"That's it?" Relief bubbles in Eva's chest when Noora nods. Here she was afraid that Noora was telling her not to come back, that she didn't want to see her anymore. Compared to that Eva can handle anything, especially a bit of cold weather. "Jesus, you had me worried that it was something serious."

"It is serious, Eva," Noora stresses. "It's not going to be comfortable for you to be out here for hours on end. I'm not stupid enough to think you're going to keep coming."

"Well you must be too smart for your own good then because, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not going anywhere."

"Eva," Noora sighs.

"No, don't 'Eva' me," Eva says, mimicking the exaggerated tone Noora used to say her name. "I don't know if you're aware, but there is such a thing as winter wear. You know, hats, scarves, big puffy jackets that could keep a small village warm." Eva looks at Noora appraisingly, tapping a finger against her chin in mock thought. "Come to think of it, you probably aren't aware of it, huh? Well, you see a jacket is a type of- Woah!"

Eva's snarky reply is cut off by cold fingers wrapping around her ankle and pulling her off the branch into the fucking freezing water below.

When she comes up spluttering, Noora’s right in front of her, close enough that Eva can count the flecks in her grey eyes. Close enough that Eva’s head swims with the delicate scent of flowers that she’s come to associate with Noora; she can practically taste it: the silky petals of daffodils and daisies wrapping around her tongue. 

Noora's smile is blinding as she asks in disbelief, "You're really not leaving?"

"Um, no," Eva croaks around the lump in her throat. "I, um, I thought you didn't trust yourself with people in the water,” she breathes out shakily as Noora tenderly brushes wet strands of hair off Eva’s forehead, tucking them behind her ears and letting her wandering fingers rest against the pulse point in Eva’s neck- pounding disjointedly in a reflection of Eva losing her god damn mind.

Noora shakes her head, scrunching up her nose in that adorable way that never fails to jumpstart Eva’s heart in double time. “I don’t,” she says softly, and Eva’s stomach drops almost painfully. She squeezes her eyes shut against the bitter disappointment- because of course someone like Noora wouldn’t want her- and nearly jumps out of her skin when Noora nudges closer, bumping the tip of her nose against Eva’s. “But I trust myself with you,” she says, skimming her nose over Eva’s cheek bone and down along her jaw, making Eva’s breath catch and stutter, especially when she feels the illusion of lips pressing the softest of butterfly kisses in the hollow below her ear.

Her eyes snap open just as Noora brings their lips together for the first time. It’s soft and lingering, a little unsure with a hint of nerves lying below the surface almost like Noora’s scared Eva might reject her, which is an absolutely ridiculous thought. Eva’s been dreaming about Noora since the first time they made eye contact in that little field and probably even longer, like for her entire life. Eva feels like she’s been waiting for Noora from the moment she was born as she sucks in a scalding breath and kisses Noora back like her life depends on it.

Deepening the kiss, Eva wraps her arms around Noora’s neck, twining her fingers through the wet, wispy hair there. She presses as close as she possibly can, and then Noora presses closer, damp bodies sticking together above and below the water.

At the first tentative touch of tongues, Eva slips, stumbling in a jolted way as her mind finally leaves the realm of sanity. And this is better- like a happy little accident- because when Noora catches her, their legs tangle together making it impossible to know where Eva ends and Noora begins. They just simply are, and it’s the most beautiful thing Eva has ever seen with her eyes closed.

Noora tastes like aged honey and milk and her lips move seamlessly with Eva’s like raindrops sliding down rose petals. It’s sweet, it’s bliss, it’s madness, and they dive deeper and deeper, searching for salvation in the midst of saliva and teeth.

The first rays of deliverance shine like sunlight through Eva’s fluttering eyelashes when she nips at Noora’s bottom lip and is rewarded with a breathy half-moaned whimper. Pleasure shivers down her spine while pride bubbles in her chest; she’s never felt like this before, never made someone else feel like this before. She didn’t know it could be like this, this good, this world stopping.

When Noora pulls back slightly, Eva is quick in chasing her lips, pulling her back into the spiraling vortex that they’ve created. Noora allows herself to be sucked back in for a moment longer before pulling back again with a shuddering gasp, panting slightly. On her end, Eva’s never felt less of a need for air.

Giving Noora a chance to breathe, Eva moves her lips over the corner of Noora’s mouth, over her cheeks, below her eyes, down her throat. Every press of lips to soft flesh feels like a cementing of fate, Eva carving her love for this girl out in tiny constellations that sear themselves into Noora’s skin as Eva finally comes home.

Eva finally pulls back when she feels Noora tense, body going from soft and pliable to rigid and hard in the blink of an eye.

“Are you oka-” Eva starts to ask, but immediately cuts herself off, the words dying in her throat as she takes in what Noora’s staring at with wide eyes.

All around them, hundreds of water droplets are hanging in the air, dangling in suspension like a frozen snow globe scene. The light from the setting sun cuts through the drops at just the right angle to tint them a rosy golden color. Together with the reflection of the water below them, it’s like standing in the middle of a meteor shower while thousands of shooting stars fly in the air.

Eva lets out a disbelieving laugh, stepping back from Noora to look at the mesmerizing scene. She doesn’t go far, though, keeping a hand wrapped around Noora, her fingers tapping a disjointed rhythm against her hip. “I didn’t know you could do this,” Eva says, turning back to look at Noora in question.

Noora makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Eva,” she says, shaking her head, “baby, I can’t do this. Nokken don’t have the ability to control water in this way.” 

Eva scrunches her eyebrows in confusion, tilting her head back to look at the dazzling water-light show above them, and, yeah, it’s definitely still there, just as real as it had been moments ago. “I don’t understand,” Eva says slowly, cutting her eyes back to Noora, who for some reason looks positively giddy, like if Eva wasn’t there for her to hold onto she would be floating too. “If you’re not doing this then how-?”

Noora nods her head at Eva, eyes flashing at her like she’s trying to give her the answer to something important that Eva just can’t grasp. “Eva,” she says fondly, shaking her shoulders and staring at her intently, grey eyes reaching into her very soul.

And that’s when it clicks like the flick of a lighter.

“Me!?” Eva yelps, pointing at herself in bewilderment, jabbing a finger a little harshly into her own chest. “I can’t- How could I possibly, I mean- Noora?”

“I think you might be a water nymph,” she proposes, sliding her hand down Eva’s arm from her shoulder to her hand to wrap their fingers together, giving Eva’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I mean, it would kind of explain a lot,” she shrugs.

And the thing is, it would. It really would explain the majority of Eva’s life from the way she always felt more at home in the water to the way she could locate ponds and lakes like a beacon, like there was some kind of water-sensing compass in her that called her back to the shore. Her clumsiness makes sense in this light too. What was it that her mother always used to say- something about Eva not having developed land legs? And the way her grandmother used to look at her when her mom said it, like she was appraising Eva. Jesus, even her grandmother knew.

She’s a water nymph.

The words bounce around in her mind, spreading a warm glow through her chest and veins, lighting her body up with a new kind of peace. It’s true; she knows it is as the rightness of it slots into place like when you’re making a puzzle and realize the pieces you’ve been trying to cram together don’t fit. The pieces labeled Eva and human might connect with a little wiggling, but they could never click together with an ease quite like Eva and water nymph.

“I’m a water nymph,” Eva gushes, giddy with the realization. “I’m a water nymph!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around Noora and twirling them in a circle, splashing water everywhere.

Noora laughs, loud and uninhibited. “Yes, you are,” she confirms, tucking a strand of hair behind Eva’s ear. Her eyes are sparkling in that way they sometimes do when Noora doesn’t think Eva’s watching her, except Eva’s always watching Noora, stealing glances and lingering looks from the corner of her eye. But this is different than those little peeks. It’s like the shine has been dialed up ten degrees.

There’s no filter now, nothing shielding Eva from the unadulterated awe- and dare she say love- pouring out of Noora’s eyes. It sets Eva’s heart in an off-kilter rhythm; it’s entirely possible that she’s going to die in the face of such reverent limerence. Oh, but what a way to go. 

“And here I thought I was in trouble before. A water nymph,” Noora sighs, scrunching her nose.

Eva feels the bottom of her stomach threaten to drop. She was so busy reveling in what this meant for her that she didn’t even stop to think about what it might mean for Noora, for them. What if Nokken and water nymphs aren’t supposed to be together?

“Is that a bad thing?” Eva asks cautiously, voice small, more than a little worried about the answer she might receive.

Noora looks at her incredulously. “Eva, baby, darling, my little water sprite,” she babbles, clinging to Eva, desperately pulling her closer until there isn’t an inch of space between them, “you are the absolute best thing.”

Eva beams. “So are you,” she whispers, brushing their lips together.

It barely even registers that as they deepen the kiss the drops of water finally fall on them like a cascading rain shower. Eva’s too busy thinking about knights and dragons, flowers and princesses, red lips and music, and Noora. Always Noora.


End file.
